


HARD;targets

by SLUT



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Omega!Victor, alpha!yuuri, premature ejaculation kink, pulpy, the chillest kidnapping ever, yuuri is 18 victor is 22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9264929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLUT/pseuds/SLUT
Summary: Yuuri goes into his first rut at the worst possible time and Victor Nikiforov, well, he’s always nice to his fans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> moving this to my main yoi ao3 account

**saturday night cartoons**

**and royal blue;**

 

And of course this would happen to him.

 

Why would it happen to anyone else?

 

Self-awareness was the downfall of man in this day and age. Yuuri Katsuki was no stranger to this, the universe had given him this outdated skillset in handfuls after all.

 

He was aware that he hadn't showered since earlier today, that his clothes were now ruffled and clung awkwardly to him, that a _cool_ gun was pressed into the back of his head, the metal touching a heated and damp scalp, and before him in a small room was his idol, a young russian actor by the name of Victor Nikiforov.

 

Twenty-two and more striking in person, gazing almost lazily at a Yuuri looking his absolute _worst_.

 

‘V-victor?’ He gasps once he’s shoved inside, the air from a slammed door tickling his neck.

 

Yuuri learns quickly that the universe had not given Victor the same gift.

 

‘Don't worry, if our parents really love us, we'll be out of here in no time.’

 

_Wink._

 

Yuuri wasn't one to comment on a person's taste. His clothes were plain, his room, his hair. But, their captors, they had bad taste. The wallpaper was enough to make his head spin, coupled with the fear of being _fucking_ kidnapped and having his idol five feet away from him, Yuuri was on the verge of blacking out.

 

Or throwing up.

 

Whichever comes first.

 

It was cheap victorian wallpaper, red and gold patterns of plants overlapping each other and dancing while being still. Busy, with cream colored lining and a faux blue fur fug in the middle of the dirty floor, between two twin beds that Victor had already decided was his island before Yuuri was dragged here.

 

The beautiful, the talented, the charming.

 

Hollywood’s darling.

 

_Victor Nikiforov._

 

Lounging on a tacky fur rug, eyes glued on a dated TV, in a faded shirt from a college he never attended and swim trunks that dragged at the hip, smelling of generic soap and evergreen.

 

He was far too comfortable here and no matter how many times Yuuri discreetly pinches himself, he never wakes up.

 

_This can’t be real._

 

‘There’s fresh clothes and a shower in that bathroom.’ Victor says, casual as a sleepover, tapping his bare foot into the fuzz.

 

/

 

Yuuri was _hyper-aware_ that he was drowning in the clothes that had been haphazardly placed on the bathroom counter. It was just his luck that he’d meet his idol in these strange circumstances. The only plus side being that he wasn't as nervous as he would have been in a different setting.

 

Yuuri had much more to worry about.

 

Like being _fucking_ held for ransom. He had no time to think about how silly he looked in an outfit three times his size.

 

‘How long until our parents come with the money?’

 

Victor hums. ‘Most likely tomorrow evening.’

 

While Victor came from old money, Yuuri came from new money. His parent's hotel chain had expanded double its size in the past two years which meant their captors keeps up to date.

 

By this point, his fear had turned into annoyance.

 

It had to be him, didn't it? Not some other boy from a newly wealthy family? but little, unknown _Yuuri Katsuki_.

 

/

 

‘And now,’ Victor bows his head, theatrics out the ass. ‘We break bread with our enemies.’

 

_Hair flip._

 

The two man sitting opposite of them only look slightly amused by his antics as they pass the food around. Yuuri really can’t tell.

 

They’re wearing masks.

 

‘We need to take a picture of you two before bed. So they know you’re alive.’

 

_Snap._

 

‘Cheese!’ Victor yells around a fork of roasted chicken.

 

/

 

‘Wait!’ Victor says before the taller man can close and lock the door. ‘Will you bring us a bottle of wine? Put it on mother and father's tab.’

 

‘Are you out of your mind!’

 

_Why are you asking things from them!?_

 

Yuuri’s wail falls on deaf ears because not thirty minutes later, Hollywood's darling is getting tipsy flipping through channels.

 

‘Do you remember this cartoon? I used to watch it every day after school, though I don’t remember them showing it this late.’

 

Victor passes the bottle to him and he takes it with slight hesitation, his mind unwittingly conjuring up images of his father drunk off his ass at last year's new year party.

 

He’ll only indulge a little.

 

Yuuri watched as a blue poodle hopped along the screen, happy and exaggerated and fighting crime and something inside of his heart warms, the edge of his lip twitching up. It was the only thing that could set his nerves straight as a kid coming home from a hectic, and sometimes draining school day. Yuuri doesn't know what ties Victor had to this little blue poodle, but he feels embarrassingly pleased that they share something in common.

 

If it’s only just this.

 

‘I did too.’ Is all he says.

 

It’s been hard not to stare when Victor's eyes aren't on him and for a second he wants to ask for an autograph, something.

 

Anything.

 

And his shame stops him from doing, well, anything. It’s a completely different feeling now, meeting someone flesh to flesh. It didn't take long to realize that no human had a special aura around them once they became famous.

 

Though, he’d be lying if he said he felt the same way when Victor’s eyes _were_ on him and when he _wasn't_ thinking about the circumstances of their forced one-day bonding. Face to face, it’s a different story and no matter how laid back Victor was, those blue eyes still made him shiver when they locked onto his.

 

It’s like being in a movie theater again, expect he’s really here.

 

Interactive and very real.

 

‘You seem really calm about this whole thing, you been kidnapped before?’ He jokes because there's a silent lull in the room now, and Yuuri doesn't respond well to awkwardness and these two adults aren't really invested in a silly childhood cartoon anymore.

 

No matter how special.

 

Victor chuckles. ‘No, consider this my vacation.’

 

_Wink._

 

Yuuri’s laugh comes out like a breath. Half because those eyes are on him again and half because the room has changed and only he can feel it.

 

Like a switch, there’s something warm, _hot_ , in his stomach, his nose zeroing in on a sweet smell that's not the glistening lip of the wine bottle underneath it. The sun had set hours ago and the absence of the soft yellow light mingles with the dense darkness he feels in his gut right now.

 

The cool blue of the moon leaving his eyes low.

 

He’s read about this; the rapid headchange, the increased senses.

 

And Yuuri’s always been a late bloomer.  For everything.

 

He takes a deep breath and the exhale comes out a silent moan.

 

For the umpteenth time that day, he feels dread.

 

_What if Victor can smell him?_

 

‘Yuuuuuri,’ The man sing-songs and it doesn't sound as innocent as the last time he said his name like this. ‘You’re making me _wet_.’ and there’s an annoyed tone to his voice now.

 

In fact, it’s the only time he’s sounded serious all day.

 

‘I’m sorry, I d-didn’t know this would happen.’

 

‘You don’t know your cycle?’

 

Life would be easier if he didn't care about what people thought of him. But he does, and he wishes these wooden floorboards would crack and he could fall through.

 

‘...It’s my first time.’

 

He waits for a laugh he expects _not_ to get and gets one anyway, though it’s gentle and only a little teasing.

 

‘Do you need help?’ Yuuri doesn't know if it's the sudden headchange that has Victor’s voice sounding so much deeper.

 

‘N-no, I can take care of it myself.’

 

‘You’ll be in there all night if you try to take care of it with your hand.’

 

It’s not uncommon for an alpha to trigger an omega into a false heat and right now they are bouncing off each other. Even through Yuuri’s self-deprecating nature, through all of his feelings of unworthiness, he can sense the want coming from the man on his right.

 

Victor’s smelling sweeter by the second, stronger, and he can feel a soft rumble in his throat. A low growl, his cock growing painfully hard the longer they lounge next to each other like this.

 

‘O-okay.’ He says while closing his eyes hard.

 

Victor traces his face slowly with the tip of his index finger, stopping at his lips before pulling closer. The whole time, Yuuri’s eyes are downcast or shut. His heart's beating fast enough, he doesn't need it to explode.

 

And Victor lets him be shy with the eye contact and nothing else.

 

‘Touch me.’ He growls before biting at his bottom lip.

 

Beneath his shirt is hard muscles and soft, soft skin and Yuuri has to blink back the lust clouding his vision as he explores, his light touches gradually pushing boundaries as they sink below the swim trunks, his hand coming into contact with Victor’s slick as soon as he grips at his left ass cheek.

 

He growls, the sound no longer soft and embarrassed but _deprived_.

 

They scramble out of their clothes before smashing into each other, teeth clinking because Yuuri has no idea what to do but he _wants_.

 

‘I love alphas like you,’ Victor says once they pull away. ‘So needy, so innocent, so cute.’ He hisses between licks of his jaw and Yuuri whimpers, resolve cracking as he pushes the other man down on his side with strength he didn't know he possessed.

 

From this angle, the way Yuuri has him pressed down, he looks pretty and pink and wrong and his cock throbs, drooling at the sight of him, at his hole dripping, at those thick thighs glistening in the limited light.

 

‘Fuck me!’ Victor whines, purposefully overwhelming him in it’s high pitched lewdness, those blue eyes peeking through his silver bangs wickedly.

 

Yuuri traces a finger along his back while panting, passing between his cheeks until they reach his wet twitching hole. He pushes in to test the tightness, and fuck, those eyes studying him as his digit dips into his heat has him coming without touching his cock.

 

 _‘Shit_.’

 

His stomach tightens, eyes falling shut as thick ropes of his come hit Victor’s thigh, his cock bouncing up and down with every pump.

 

And he can feel it, Victor getting wetter around his digit.

 

‘I’m s-sorry, I didn't mean to come so soon.’ He gasps, holding his deflating knot with his free hand.

 

 _There’s nothing to be sorry for_ , Victor doesn't say it, but he knows because the look he’s giving him right now tells him everything, eye’s even heavier with unconcealed fascination.

 

He brings Victor off with his own slick while he waits to get hard again. Both these things don’t take long.

 

‘God.’ He whispers to himself as he takes in the sight of Victor Nikiforov coming all over his hand, of his eyes closing shut and his pink lips parting lewdly, a low whine emitting from his throat as his whole body freezes.

 

With two fingers, he works him open again, his canines barring the closer he gets to having his cock in that tight wet heat that's practically begging him to fuck it. He wastes no time once the man below him is ready and slides in as slow as his lust intoxicated brain will allow him too.

 

The smell and feel of him has him snapping his hips the moment he pulls out for the first time.

 

‘Fuck yes!’ Victor moans into the rug below.

 

Yuuri’s never seen any part of himself in a sexual light, but looking at his cock drag in and out of Victor’s puckered hole has him fascinated and hungry, has him toppling over the edge again.

 

‘I’m going to come.’ He whines, his nails digging into pale soft flesh.

 

‘Do it, fill me up,  knot me!’

 

It’s all the encouragement he needs to slam Victor’s body into the floor, his cock and balls pulsating as he gives him everything. And it takes _every_ inch of the willpower in his being not to push his come back in possessively with his cock once it starts dribbling out.

 

They lay on the floor after, between the two beds their captors had so kindly set up for them, too exhausted to get. They felt comfortable here anyway.

 

‘What’s this?’ Victor asks in the quiet night, face still pink, taking a hold of his hand and looking at the ring on his finger.

 

‘A good luck charm.’

 

‘This is a wedding band.’ He snorts.

 

‘I know but I wanted it.’

 

‘Well, whatever it is to  you, it’s beautiful.’

 

For the rest of the night, he fiddles with the ring until the next evening, when they’re standing in the sun watching the worried faces of their parents come walking up the long driveway.  

 

‘Give me your hand?’

 

Victor huffs in amusement. ‘What?’

 

‘Please?’

 

He holds out it out, knuckles pink against the rest of his pale skin.

 

‘I know we’ve only watched tv together and had sex, but please don’t forget about me.’ The place where his ring used to be feels strange, but he slips the ring on Victor’s finger anyway, pushing a little harder to get it past the middle.

 

‘Wow, I guess I have to get you one too.’

 

_Wink._

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are lovely!


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